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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840608">Bitter Hopes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuiihren/pseuds/Nui'>Nui (Nuiihren)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Curse of Strahd Shorts Collection [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Curse of Strahd - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:08:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>711</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28840608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nuiihren/pseuds/Nui</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>500 years ago, when Barovia was only just coming under Strahd's rule. When Kazimir was certain to outlive the conqueror of his people...</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Curse of Strahd Shorts Collection [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bitter Hopes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“As you can see, these are beautiful lands, Lord Kazimir,” Count von Zarovich said with a slight wave of hand. His tone reminded Kazimir of a child bragging about his new toys. </p><p>He kept himself from grimacing. At least, one had to appreciate the man’s courtesy of using Elvish, but, just as usual, the delicate True Tongue sounded downright brutalised coming from human lips. And given the context, he had to doubt if the Count wasn’t mocking him with his forthcoming act.</p><p>“So they are, my lord,” Kazimir said. </p><p>That was no lie. The hill they were standing on offered a perfect view of the valley that stretched out along the Ivlis River: luscious greens of the forest and the meadows, blue of the sky, white-topped mountain peaks framing the landscape like it had sprung to life from the brush of a painter. Looking at it, one could almost get hopeful. And yet even from afar traces of war were visible to the eye, if one knew where to look for them. Burned spots where resistance used to be. <em>This isn’t our land</em>, Kazimir thought bitterly, <em>he destroyed my kingdom and now I have to act grateful for getting to live on the ruins of another.</em> At least for now. Human life was short, after all.</p><p>He could hear his sister scoff in the back of his mind, the same way she did as he voiced that same argument in front of her. <em>Isn’t that the history of our race summed up in one sentence?</em> she had said, rolling her eyes. <em>‘Human life is short, this and that king will die and then we’ll take back what is ours!’ Isn’t that what our ancestors have been claiming for over a thousand of years? Failing to notice, somehow, that humans tend to multiply and preserve their legacy over those short-lived generations of theirs.</em> Sometimes he was certain that she despised him for bending the knee. Sometimes it almost felt like she admired their human conquerors. Where was she now? Kazimir didn’t know.</p><p>“Come, I will show you where your people can settle,” the Count continued gesturing to the map that was spread out on a makeshift table behind them.</p><p>He was smiling. A perfect picture of a benevolent lord, but his eyes remained cold, almost eerily so. <em>Don’t think you have me fooled,</em> Kazimir thought, but had to stop himself. What was the point if he’d already surrendered? He should hope that the man was all that he promised to be, not try to pick out every flaw. For the sake of his own people, Kazimir had to stand by his choice. He bent over the map. Around them, the Count’s camp was buzzing like a nest of angry hornets and a couple of tenfeet further the construction of the castle provided even more noise, the monstrosity of stone rising on charred remains of the keep that was left of the valley’s previous rulers. <em>What abomination will they build over the razed towers of my childhood?</em> Angry, bitter thoughts.</p><p>A man approached them, murmuring something to the Count in a voice that was too low for Kazimir to hear. He did his best to ignore the newcomer, staring intensely at the lines on the map that looked so completely meaningless to him at that moment.</p><p>“Thank you, Rahadin,” Count von Zarovich said in Common.</p><p>He didn’t seem to bother with the True Tongue for that one. Not that it was surprising, Rahadin was more human than elf, from everything Kazimir had heard. Which was truly the most harmless thing people would say about the man. Oh, some of the stories… Kazimir gritted his teeth, waiting for him to leave, but Rahadin was whispering something to the Count again. Despite himself, Kazimir raised his head, his eyes meeting those of the other elf’s for a brief second. Indifferently, Rahadin looked away and back to the Count, not a sign that seeing one of his own meant anything to him. Likely, it didn’t.</p><p>Kazimir watched the two in silence, anger and disdain burning in his chest with no hope for release. <em>Whatever Patrina says,</em> he told himself, <em>two decades or three and at least the human is gone and then things will be different.</em></p>
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